Drowning
by xGlowingAngelx
Summary: She says her goodbyes to her father, whilst he sits nearby and does exactly the same, but in a completely different way [Slightly AU] [Post island]


**A/N:** _This is my very first LOST fanfic! ) Basically, I thought I'd attempt it. Reviews are loved, but be gentle, I suck at the mnor details!!!! It's about two of the LOST castaways. Please review. It's a one shot. _

**Drowning**

-

_You look awful._ It was the first thing he thought as he glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were a pool of red from the tears he'd cried. His shirt was buttoned up all wrong, and he was rapidly starting to regret his decision to grow that god awful beard. He reached for the electric razor and brought it to his chin, ready to make himself look respectable. But his hands were shaking furiously. He closed his eyes and snapped them open again. The razor still in his hands. He erupted in a violent outburst and threw the razor at the mirror, not caring at all as the glass panel cracked in the middle.

-

_You look fine._ It was what she told herself as she glared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Her eyes were hidden behind a paint of mascara and eye shadow, where nobody could see the red from the tears she'd cried. Her blouse fitted neatly around her upper body, fastened by all but the top button. She reached for the tube of lip gloss and smeared a layer on both her lips, masking the cracks from the winter weather. She reached for the bottle of perfume and sprayed herself all over wrist and neck. Satisfied she was as prepared as she'd ever be, she stood from the bed, not noticing as the pot of eye liner slipped to the floor, and spread a puddle of colour on the floor.

-

He'd been sat in his car now for goodness knows how long. The sky was a dark, rich blue, illuminated by the twinkle of stars cascading all over. He'd disguised himself well enough. He'd opted for a red car instead of the expected black. He watched as people arrived and walked into the church, clutching at one another for sources of comfort. He wondered how many of them he'd met before. How many of them he'd made casual conversation with at lunch. How many of them he'd been looked down on by. He watched as the final person entered the church. She was dressed in a smart suit and a blouse that fitted neatly. He wondered if he'd ever met her before, but it was hard to tell. Her hair was tucked neatly under a large black hat and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades. He glanced at the photo that lay on the passengers seat of the car. He stared at it until his eyes stung from the salty tears that were forming. He stared at it until the salty tears fell and rolled down his cheeks.

-

She'd climbed from the car as casually as she could without fainting. She'd never done this before. Never lost anyone close to her. Not that he was close to her. Ever since she'd discovered who he was, he'd shown very little interest in her or getting to know her. But that hadn't swayed her decision to be here today. She felt as though she needed to be here. Like saying a final goodbye would be closure for her. And closure was just what she needed right now. She clasped the hand of the young boy that clutched her skirt, and gave him a weak smile. He hadn't a clue why he'd been brought here, because she hadn't told him the story. She'd promised him the explanations would come later.

She greeted familiar faces as she always did. A hug and kisses on both cheeks. As she'd been taught to do. She stood outside the church and took a deep breath. She knew everyone would be inside, waiting for her to go in and join them in saying goodbye to the man she adored the most, even if he hadn't paid her all that much attention. The man she'd loved and lost in only a short space of time. She cast her eyes around, her gaze falling somehow on the car only a few miles away. She couldn't quite make out who it was or what exactly he was doing, but he seemed to be staring at something on the seat beside him.

There was something uncanny about him that made her feel oddly unsettled. He looked so familiar. She pondered going to talk to him, find out if he was planning to attend the funeral. But she stopped herself from walking towards him. If he was going to attend he would. And if he wasn't, she'd be talking to a complete stranger. She snapped herself back to reality, straightened her skirt and jacket and headed inside to where a crowd of people would be awaiting her entrance. Where she would bury the one person that she craved to love and be loved by; Her Father, Christian Shephard.

-

He looked back up in time to see the woman head inside. Her head hung low. He wondered if she was crying. He wondered if she'd seen him. He wondered if she knew who he was.

He took a large mouthful from the bottle of whiskey he'd carried in the inside pocket of his jacket. He let out a sad, gentle laugh and raised the bottle to mid air. 'To you' he said to somebody, but nobody in particular.

He let his head rest on the head rest of the seat and closed his eyes, taking another sip of the whiskey. A drink for the person he'd been too afraid to say goodbye too. The person that had made him feel worthless and useless. The person that he'd loved and lost; His father, Christian Shephard.

-

xoxThe Endxox


End file.
